On The Edge
by sylc
Summary: After Ritsu leaves Sohma House, he goes missing; Hatori goes to find him. Also contains Ayame and Shigure.


'Ritsu's disappeared?' Hatori turns in his desk chair to look at the view of the sunset through his office window. The cord of the phone drags against his shoulder, pulls on his shirt.

_'Yes,'_ Shigure pipes up from the other end of the telephone. _'Somewhere between our house and the university - he said he had afternoon lectures. His mother phoned me to ask for his whereabouts; apparently he didn't return to the main house.'_ He sounds amused. Hatori can envision him grinning on the other side.

'You sound awfully cheerful about it,' Hatori comments, cupping his free hand over his forehead. He can feel a headache coming on. 'Anyway, why are you calling me?'

_'Aha! You're so cold, Ha-san! Trying to distance yourself from the situation?' _Shigure's playful tone suddenly fades. _'Aren't you the family doctor? I thought you'd be one of the most in the know about his movements considering he talks to you.'_

Hatori's eyes narrow. 'Not in over six years,' he says a little acidly. 'As you said, I'm a doctor; not a counsellor.'

_'Ah, it's really the same thing though, isn't it? Doctor, counsellor, chauffeur, shoulder to cry on, memory merchant, secret lover...'_

Hatori reaches out with his free hand and cuts off the line. As he puts down the receiver, hears it scrape into place, he supposes that he should have asked for Ritsu's emotional state when Shigure last saw him. He leans back in his chair and stares absently at the sunset, watches the orange sun slowly descend behind the black roofs and tree canopies of the estate.

Has it really been six years? Six years since that time? Or was it seven years? He wonders if Shigure even remembers what happened, then on further consideration, wonders if Shigure even knows what happened on that day. As he reaches for the phone and presses in the numbers, he supposes that if that were the case, it would be doubtful that Shigure would be calling him. Shigure has a long memory, especially when it comes to noticing anything that borders on romance.

There's no answer, no dial tone. He glances at his watch and observes that it's past business hours. So he tries another number, the home number. When that rings out, he tries the mobile and finds that that's on silent. He puts down the phone, puts together the papers on his desk, then rises and leaves the room to head to his car.

As he drives out of the estate, he slows down outside Ayame's rooms to check for lights in the windows. They're out, confirming his suspicions that Ayame's still at his shop or perhaps... perhaps elsewhere... somewhere secret to him. He scans the dark windows, then exhales heavily and steps down on the accelerator pedal, causing the car to lurch as it speeds up.

People often comment that he knows more about Ayame's routine than the rest of the family due to their close friendship. Privately, Hatori doesn't think he knows that much at all. Certainly not as much as he once did all those years ago... six or seven years ago... when they were still fresh out of school... when Ayame had newly realised the depths of his selfish ignorance. When Ayame had been, at least for a short time, similar to his brother in his melancholic silence.

He slows down as he exits the gates, turns his head either side to check the road for vehicles. And as he waits for a passing car to speed by him, he supposes that if Ayame hadn't clung to him at that time, if Ayame hadn't come with him to visit Ritsu, the household might have lost two members.

_At that time, he had been in medical school and was, like Kana later on, an assistant to the household's doctor. It could have been easy for him to have buried himself in his work and studies - he certainly had enough to keep him occupied without melancholic cousins as well. But Ayame had latched onto him like a leech and though in hindsight Hatori supposed he could have simply told Ayame to leave him alone, vulnerable and tearful and self-conscious as Ayame had been at the time, he hadn't... and so had come that day when Ayame had visited him at the office and followed him to the hospital._

He suddenly smiles in the darkness of the car as he thinks of Ritsu's words in Shigure's study the other day.

_'I'm going to be a man brimming with confidence just like Brother Ayame.'_

Maybe Ritsu thinks that because he and Ayame have both seriously considered that leap into nothingness, even attempted it, they might share the ability to make a full recovery. But unlike Ayame, Ritsu was never confident ibefore/i his breakdown. Hatori agrees with Shigure. It's probably an impossible dream, but maybe that's because he's a pessimist. Kana would probably manage to find the strength to hope for him. Or not... maybe not now. Or maybe his memory's playing tricks on him.

At the traffic lights, he pulls his mobile out of his pocket and dials Ayame's number a second time. Once again, it's on silent. He repockets it.

_Ayame hadn't said anything when he had seen Ritsu on the bed, eyes closed in a drugged sleep. As Hatori watched an expressionless Ayame sit down in a seat beside the window and turn to look out at the view of the endless tarmac, he wondered if Ayame had ever spoken to Ritsu. If he even knew Ritsu at all... if he even remembered his name._

The showroom of the shop is dark, but as he drives past, peers closely through the windows, he sees faint light from the doors that lead to the workrooms at the rear. He parks the car and walks over to the front doors. Predictably, they're locked so he goes around to the back. He tries the door and finds it unlocked. As he opens it, he stiffens when he hears the voices he seeks.

So even after all this time, Ritsu stays in contact with him.

_Over the following few days, Ayame hadn't come to visit him quite as often and Hatori had assumed that he had started to do something more productive with his time. So when he had visited the hospital a second time, he had been surprised to find Ayame in the foyer, an enormous bouquet in his arms. They had stared at one another for a few moments, then Ayame had turned and sped into the elevator._

_When he had eventually reached the room, he had found a smiling Ayame sitting on the bed beside Ritsu who was laughing and looking more relaxed than Hatori had ever seen him. Hatori had been about to open the door and make his presence known when Ayame had leaned in and pressed his lips to Ritsu's cheek._

He closes the door behind him and proceeds to the sitting room and the source of the voices. He finds Ayame first. His cousin lies sprawled elegantly over one of the couches in his kimono, his slipped feet propped on the arm. The coffee table before him is littered with the plastic remains of a small feast of fast food. Behind him, there's movement in the changing stall.

'TORI!' Ayame beams at him, eyes wide in surprise and delight. 'What blessed wind stirred you to turn in this direction for this impromptu visit?'

Hatori looks pointedly at the stall. 'His mother. I'm here to pick up Ritsu.'

'He'll be a little time yet,' Ayame says. 'Sit down, sit down. Have some takoyaki! Have some tea!' Before Hatori can reply, he's up and ushering him into the seat with a quiet, 'come, come!' and set out one of the last cartons of the morsels in front of him. Then he slips over to the stall and pokes his head inside it. 'Finished, Ri-chan?'

There's a long pause, then Ayame exhales and says, slightly critically, 'I prefer the red one. It suits your complexion much better.' Then he turns around and beams at Hatori, who's picking at the remains of the takoyaki. Hatori looks at him and suddenly senses that if he doesn't make a move, he'll be here all night. 'I seem to be attracting unexpected beloved guests today,' Ayame adds.

'I suspected that I was the only one who knew that you were friends,' Hatori says, placing the toothpick onto a pile of crumpled napkins and pulling a face; the takoyaki is soggy and the taste makes him feel nauseous. Since when did Ayame develop such a fetish for takoyaki? He stands, fishes his cigarettes out of his pocket, and turns towards the door. 'I'll wait outside.'

'Is something wrong?' Ayame follows him outside into the street.

'No.' Hatori lights up, feels the heat from the flame surge against his forehead when it flickers in the breeze. 'I just want to get home as soon as possible. If you want a lift, you should hurry up.' He drags sharply on the cigarette, flicks his lighter closed and repockets it.

Ayame's face twists in animated indignance. 'I resent that remark. Do you know the state that Ri-chan was in when he came to me? Or how long it took me to calm him down? Did you know that his ankle is sprained?'

Hatori's eyes narrow. He knows that all too well. He's the one who bandaged that ankle. As he exhales, watches the smoke blow away, he wonders if Ayame knows that Ritsu tried to jump off Shigure's roof. 'What time did he arrive here?'

'About noon, why?'

'He told Shigure he had afternoon lectures.' Hatori absently brushes his fringe out of his good eye.

'Hatori! If you _saw_ him...'

'I don't want to talk about this now!' Hatori snaps before he can help himself. He flinches when Ayame, his face full of sudden rage, raises his hand and whips it towards his face, towards his eyes, and snatches the cigarette out of his hand to fling it out onto the street. When Ayame looks back at him, sees his expression, his eyes abruptly widen.

'Ah... I'm sorry.'

Numb, Hatori ignores the apology. 'It would have been considerate if you had called the main house,' he says quietly... shakily. He watches the cigarette roll to a slow halt near the curb, the embers glowing softly in the breeze.

Ayame doesn't appear to have heard him. 'Ri-chan was in trousers when he left 'Gure's house!' he says. 'Can you imagine his situation? It's inconceivable, cruelty even to expect him to turn up to his classes in that state, to humiliate and torment him in such a manner! 'Gure really takes his jokes too far sometimes!'

Hatori's feels his face stiffen. Shigure's words on the telephone replay loudly in his head.

_'Ah, it's really the same thing though, isn't it? Doctor, counsellor, chauffeur, shoulder to cry on, memory merchant, secret lover...'_

After a pause, he fishes his cigarette packet back out of his pocket and lights up again. His hands are shaking. He half expects Ayame to take this one from him too, but suddenly the door opens and closes and he realises that he's alone in the deserted street. His chin suddenly trembles, tears spring to his eyes, and he claps a hand over his mouth as chokes begin to escape him. He drops his hand from his mouth and fumbles in his jacket for his handkerchief, draws raggedly on his cigarette, choking slightly on the smoke.

_When Ritsu came out of hospital, Ayame's visits to his office lessened. But although Hatori saw at last an increase in his much coveted study time, he also noticed an absence. Even if Ayame hadn't spoken much when he had been depressed and at his side, Hatori had appreciated his presence. Sometimes he caught himself staring at the empty seat that Ayame usually occupied on his visits._

He supposed that that was around the time when he first noticed the depth of the coldness in his own world... sensed the terrifying proximity of that abyss.

When he hears movement on the other side of the door, he turns and walks a few metres further down the street, daubs hurriedly at his cheeks with the handkerchief. The door opens and he looks back to see Ritsu and Ayame descending the steps, bags in their hands. Ritsu's dressed in a red and yellow furisode. Hatori doesn't comment and, wary of being drawn into a discussion about Ritsu's appearance with Ayame, quickly turns and walks to the car.

Maybe that's why he clings so tightly to them now. Why he steps out of his way to do them any favour at all. As he turns on the ignition, wrinkling his nose slightly at Ayame's perfume - or is it Ritsu's? - he wonders if they know this weakness of his; this lonesome feeling that consumes him, renders him paralysed to their whims. And if so, why they persist in badgering him. Is it misled kindness? Is it out of their own selfishness? Or both? Over the purr of the engine, Shigure's words on the phone echo in his ears; taunting him. Ayame's perfume burns his nose, the man's exaggerated movements pain the periphery of his vision. And as he rounds a bend in the road; sees the lights of the main house lurch before him, glaring and spinning before his tear-clouded vision, he suddenly realises that he's already standing on the edge of that abyss.


End file.
